Teddy Roosevelt
by Not A Droid
Summary: This story takes place sometime after "200". Reid sees a picture of Emily with a man and flies off to London. What happens next? What does this have to do with Teddy Roosevelt? Spemily one-shot


_A/N: So, I recently discovered Shrek: the Musical. I've been watching it on Netflix and listening to the album on itunes. For no good reason, I'm been thinking of some Reid/Emily stories springing for scenes/songs from the musical/album. Here's one. I will be writing a series of mostly one-shots(some multi-chapters, but nothing long)_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any character associated with it, no copyright infringement is intended._

* * *

Spencer Reid hated James Christopher Seibold without having ever met him. Reid didn't need to meet Seibold to hate him; Reid just had to see the picture in the newspaper. It was a picture from the society page of the London Observer. The picture showed Seibold with Emily Prentiss.

The picture, however, wasn't what created Reid's hatred of Seibold.

Well, the picture by it self didn't.

When Reid looked at the picture, he felt a sensation of a hand gripping his stomach. What made things worse, however, what the text that accompanied the picture.

_James Christopher Seibold, nephew of Seibold Logistics CEO Fletcher Seibold, is seen here with Emily Prentiss. Sources close to the Seibold family reveal that the couple have become close over the next few months. Is it possible that one of the most eligible bachelors in London society is now off the market?_

Reid stared at the newspaper with such intensity of anger that he half-expected lasers to come out of his eyes and set the newspaper on fire. Instead, he arraigned personal leave, and got on a plane to London. It wasn't until he was half-way there that he realized he had no workable plan. He knew what he wanted to do, he wanted to convince Emily that James Seibold was wrong for her. He wanted to look her in the eyes, tell her all that was in his heart. He wanted her to tell him she felt the same.

There were three problems.

1. He had no idea how he could possibly convince her Seibold was wrong for her. He wasn't sure how to convince Emily of anything, if the truth be told.

2. He wasn't certain exactly what was in his heart. Until he saw that article, he hadn't realized these feelings even existed. Also, he usually had a difficult time expressing emotions, particularly with women.

3. The odds were overwhelmingly against her reacting in anyway but telling him to mind his own business.

* * *

Emily hated pictures of herself. She hated people taking pictures of her. She hated looking at pictures of her.

There was a part of her that was beginning to hate James, because he wanted pictures to be taken of her.

No, not her, of them. Emily Prentiss wasn't stupid, she knew exactly was James was and why he was seeing her. It was because his Uncle Fletcher liked Emily. James wanted pictures of them everywhere to show his uncle they were together.

Uncle Fletcher liked Emily for two reasons: because of her family and because she wasn't a boozy, drug-addled floozy. James had a talent for dating such women or other slightly embarrassing women. Emily came politicians, ambassadors, and the social upper-crust, which appealed to Fletcher's position that his family was part of the upper-crust. He liked that Emily had a career. He felt she was a good influence on James.

He was always James to Emily, not Jim or Jimmy or really any kind of knick-name. Emily didn't love James, no even a little. To be perfectly honest, if he was using her, she was using him.

Emily had come to a point in her life when she knew the truth, she wasn't going to get married and have kids. So, someone like James was perfect. He was handsome, charming, and was an easy to maintain relationship. So, she never felt lonely, like she should be dating. She also knew that James wasn't going to propose, not unless his uncle bribed him anyway.

In the meantime, the worst she had to put up with was their picture being taken. That and going to an endless stream of society functions.

She hated high society, formal functions, and galas of any kind. Like the formal dance they were attending tonight. The truth was, she would really have preferred to stay at home with her cat, Sergio, and read a book. There was a good biography of Theodore Roosevelt that had just come out she was looking forward to reading. Instead, she was here smiling, rubbing shoulders with the upper crust (and those that wished they were) and smiling for everyone.

Including Uncle Fletcher.

James had gone to get drinks for them, and Emily was reveling in the alone time, when she heard a voice she wasn't expecting say,"Emily, I need to tell you something."

Emily turned around and saw Spencer Reid, looking surprisingly dashing in a tuxedo.

"I'm sorry, what?" She wished she had something wittier or more elegant than that, but Reid's appearance took her completely by surprise. She didn't know he was going to be here. She didn't even know he was going to be in England.

"I need to tell you something. I ... we have to talk."

"Talk? Right now? About what?"

"James Christopher Seibold."

"James?" Reid's presence was making less and less sense. Emily was wondering if she was dreaming.

"Don't marry him."

"What?" Who the hell said anything about marriage?

"I know he's handsome and charming. I know he's what most women in Western culture are programmed to desire, but he's wrong for. He's only with you because his family is tired of his casual sexual relationships and his partying lifestyle. He looks more respectable with you. Why do you think there are so many pictures ofthe two you. He's trying to make sure everyone thinks only of you two as a couple."

Emily raised her eyebrows," and you came all this way to tell me this? Why not call me? And why is it your business at all?"

"Because...uh.. because". This was the part that Reid wasn't certain of. Getting into the gala wasn't hard, all he had to do was promise to give a few lectures sometime next year. Telling her what he thought of Seibold was easy too. This part, though, telling her how he felt her, was much harder.

"Reid, I appreciate you wanting to warn me about him, but I know this about him already. I know what I'm doing."

"No you don't. If you know what he is and why he's with you, then you don't know what you're doing. You don't deserve to be used by that. You ... I can't let you live like this."

"Can't let me?"

"No. Because I ... I "

What the hell is going on, Emily wondered.

Reid could feel himself start to hyper-ventilate, but he had come too far to stop now. "I love you. I...I didn't realize it before, and I'm sorry about that. But I can't ... I know you don't feel the same but ...I can't not be here. Not now. And ..."

"Emily?" It was James. "Emily, there's a fellow Uncle Fletcher wants us to meet. And ...who's this? Do I know him?"

For a moment, Emily didn't hear James. For a moment, she didn't know what to do. Reid came to England for her.

She didn't know why, but that mattered to her. An errant thought came to her. Reid would appreciate a biography about Theodore Roosevelt. He would choose reading any book over something like this.

Without taking her eyes off Reid she said, "I'll be right there, James. Just give me a minute."

"Sure. OK."

Dammit, Reid thought, she's going to tell me to go away and mind my own business.

Emily gave him a hug and kissed him on the cheek. She whispered,"Don't move. I'll be right back. I promise."

Reid watched Emily walk away, arm in arm with James. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what she was going to do. All he could do was stand there and touch his cheek where she kissed him.

"Who is that," James asked Emily.

"I need you to be calm," Emily said," because you're going to give your Uncle Fletcher some bad news."

"What do you mean?"

"We're done. Right now, I mean."

"What do you mean? Why?"

"Because I don't love you. I hate having my picture taken. And that man is my fiance."

"What? Since when?"

"Right now. Good-bye" She kissed him on the cheek and walked over to Reid.

James looked dumbfounded for a moment, and watched Emily lead Spencer Reid to the dance floor.

* * *

As they danced, Emily asked Reid,"so, exactly when did you decide you love me?"

"When I saw a picture of you and James Christopher Seibold."

"When say his name, you make him sound like an assassin."

"That's not entirely by chance."

"So, that made you realize it? A picture?"

"And the society page columnist that speculated his was now off the market."

"I see. So, what was your plan."

"I didn't really have a plan. I just convinced Hotch I needed some leave and got on a plane."

"So, figured you would just show up I would dump him and take you, just like that?"

"I...no not really. I just didn't know what else to do."

"I can think of only one thing you can do right now."

"What's that?"

"Marry me."

"What?"

"Well, I told James were engaged."

"Engaged?"

"Which means by tomorrow morning, everyone will know."

"How? You think it will be in the society pages?"

"Society pages. Twitter. Facebook. Gossip. So, if you're not ready to marry me, then you better start running."

"Do you want to marry me?"

"Yes. But I didn't realize it until now."

"Why?"

"Teddy Roosevelt."

* * *

_A/N: This wasn't exactly the fic I intended to write, but this what came out. Sometimes the best stories do insist on their own way. The idea for this came from the end of Shrek when Shrek crashes Fiona's wedding and she says," oh now you want to talk" Everything else grew out of that.  
_

_By the way, the book Emily was thinking about was The Bully Pulpit: Theodore Roosevelt, William Howard Taft, and the Golden Age of Journalism by Doris Kearns Goodwin.  
_


End file.
